CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The train was riding parallel to a main road now. Cars were haphazardly strewn across the lanes, but they would have been able to get by if their original plan had come to fruition, something that had worried Shane when they'd set out.
Lurkers were few and far between. One horde had staggered after the locomotive, but it didn't stand a chance, and if it had managed to get across in time, each and every one of them would have ended up flattened beneath the wheels, or spread across the windshield like molasses, the way the army squadron had.
'Any idea where we are?' Marla asked, more conversationally than to actually determine a location.
Shane glanced out to the passing stores. Here was a small RadioShack, dilapidated by either the weather or the looting that it must have endured; there was a small brick building with the words PEARL RIVER COUNTY TAX COLLECTOR along the side. Somebody had scrawled graffiti beneath it suggesting the proprietor go fuck himself. Then they past an even smaller brick building. This one had a sign hanging outside: THE POPLARVILLE DEMOCRAT. There was a newspaper box just out front, no doubt selling copies of the paper from the day the world went to shit.
'I guess we're in Poplarville,' Shane said, not knowing where the hell that was nor caring. It sounded like something out of a low-budget horror-movie. The Poplarville Massacre, perhaps. . .
'Doesn't look as poplar as it sounds,' Marla said. Shane rolled his eyes. 'Oh, come on! That was funny!'
'It really wasn't,' he said. 'Your jokes are never funny.'
Poplarville, it transpired, was a relatively small town and they had blasted through it within two minutes, leaving behind the quaint little buildings and stores that had been all but destroyed in the aftermath of the virus.
Shane was almost certain he could detect the scent of the ocean in the air, and as he inhaled he smiled.
'What?' Marla asked.
Shane held a hand up. 'I don't think we've got far to go,' he told her. 'Do you smell that?'
She sniffed, frowned, then said, 'Can't smell anything.'
But he could, and it was definitely sea-air. They were almost there, the edge of the world as far as they were concerned.
Shane stood in front of the open door, facing inwards. Marla admired his silhouette against the hazy morning light.
And then she screamed, but it was too late.
*
The truck came from nowhere, careering off the adjacent road, slamming into the side of their car at an impossible speed. Marla saw Shane's legs go from underneath him as the truck's front smashed into the steel car, and then he was gone, rolling across the truck's hood and out of sight.
Then it was her turn; the impact sent her flying backwards, knocking her from her feet. She hit the steel wall so hard that she bit straight through her lip, her teeth coming together between a fleshy pulp.
The truck rocked back on itself, and slowly rolled down the embankment.
The train continued forward, but the two cars it had been towing were no longer attached. The screech of brakes filled the air, hissing, whining.
It all happened so quickly and unexpectedly that the results were far more spectacular than if it had been anticipated.
The collision had ended the train's journey.
This was bad, this was so very bad . . .
Marla listened to the noises outside the car, which had rolled over onto its side without her even realising.
Ten seconds later, she was unconscious.
*
Three minutes after passing out, Marla opened her eyes and saw the face staring down at her, grinning.
'You alright in there, bitch?'
It couldn't be. But it was.
Lukas hawked and spat, and she watched as the drool strung from his bottom lip for a moment before breaking off and landing on her arm.
'Let's get you out of there, huh?'
She fainted again, and this time she prayed to Terry's God, that he would do the decent thing and let her die peacefully.
*
'This is what you get, motherfucker!' Lukas said, kicking Shane in the stomach once again. Shane lifted from the ground from the force, blood oozed from his mouth.
Marla couldn't watch; Terry's God had decided not to be kind.
'Fucking leave us out in the middle of nowhere,' Lukas continued, pacing around the kneeling hostages. Saul was silent, his eyes wide enough to catch flies. River stared solemnly to the ground. Thankfully, neither were seriously injured. The impact had been concentrated on the middle carriage, and as a result the last one – the one containing the children – had broken off almost as soon as the truck connected.
'Take our fucking boy!' Lukas snapped as he rounded Marla. She feared a swipe from his shotgun, but he resisted and continued to move. 'You think we were just gonna let that go? Leave you to go on your merry fuckin' way?'
He reached Terry, who was also relatively uninjured; he had a gash on his forehead, and his beard was pinking from the blood, but apart from that he looked okay.
But now Lukas raised the shotgun and battered Terry on the back of the head with it. He folded forward, his head bouncing on the gravel in front of him.
'Don't you touch him!' Marla said.
Lukas quickly flipped the shotgun over and jabbed it in her general direction. 'Or what?' He watched as she shrunk back into herself, not as confident as she was a second ago. 'That's what I thought.'
Abi, the bitch in the tartan-skirt, was watching everything from the side, sat on the front of the wrecked truck sucking provocatively on a lollipop.
Am I the only one hurt? Marla thought, feeling the sting of her bleeding lip with two fingers.
Abi was untouched, and Lukas looked better than when they had first encountered him, as if the whole experience had rejuvenated him.
'Now, since you left us with the gun, I'm going to be kind to y'all and give you a choice. You know, like you did for me.' He kicked Shane again, this time a little to the left. Shane hoped those weren't ribs he heard cracking.
'Stop hurting him!' Marla gasped as Shane rocked back on his heels, blood erupting from his mouth.
Calmly, Lukas raised the shotgun once again. 'I'm not gonna tell you again.' He drew a zip across his lips and tossed away an invisible key.
Marla wanted to kill him. Right then, right there, she wanted the means to kill him, and it would have happened.
'Like I said before bitch interrupted,' Lukas continued. On the front of the buckled truck, Abi applauded, obviously enjoying the show her man was putting on for her. 'I'm gonna give you a choice. You didn't kill us; I won't kill you, but the choice is gonna be a difficult one.'
'You fuck!' Terry said, straightening up. A piece of gravel was pressed deep into his forehead.
Lukas turned, grinned and grimaced at the same time. 'Oh, not yet, but we will.' He turned to River and levelled the shotgun at her. 'With her. You see, this is your choice.' He scratched his head nonchalantly, as if the next words to pass his lips would be ordinary, nothing weird at all.
'You can die, here, all of you . . . including the girl, and that dumb fucking idiot.' He pointed at Saul, who showed no emotion at being singled out, at all. 'Or you all get to live, but we take her with us.'
Then he laughed, snorted, hysterical, maniacal. Abi, the willing spectator, applauded louder. 'You can keep the mutey,' he chortled. 'We were bored of him, anyhoo.'
Shane sighed, closed his eyes. He knew, Marla knew, and Terry knew, that Lukas wasn't getting River. They would die first, and might.
'So what's it gonna be?' Lukas asked. 'All live . . . all die . . . makes no difference to me either way.'
Shane wiped the blood from his mouth and grunted. He began to climb to his feet, a move which unsettled Lukas, and Abi – who had been smiling and clapping up until that point – almost toppled off the crumbled hood of the truck.
'No,' Shane said.
One word, as blunt as could be.
'What did you say?' Lukas lowere
d the gun; its barrel was pointed at Shane's chest. 'I'm pretty sure some shit just fell out of your mouth.'
Shane spat, a globule of blood landed at Lukas's feet. 'I said no.'
Lukas stared down at the bloody saliva with disgust. Behind him, Abi shifted nervously, her petite frame still enough to rattle the wrecked steel beneath her.
'Well I guess we don't have a deal,' Lukas said. He stopped pointing the gun at Shane.
The barrel inched slowly across, set on Terry who merely lowered his head.
'How 'bout I start with the old fucker?' he said. 'Work my way down by age; that way I get to have a little bit of fun with the kids before I blow their faces off.'
'Don't do this,' Shane said, holding a placatory hand aloft as if it would make the slightest bit of difference.
It didn't.
Lukas pulled the trigger.
*
Terry rolled backwards as the shot hit him high. Shane didn't see any of this because he was lunging for Lukas, for the shotgun. Lukas was already swinging the shotgun round, ready to blow Shane to kingdom-come, but Abi's screeching stopped him.
Shane thumped into Lukas, knocking him to the ground. Lukas wasn't struggling,though. His attention was upon the truck.
Shane grabbed the shotgun and clambered off Lukas, leaving him gasping for air and watching his girlfriend.
Seemingly from out of nowhere, three lurkers had sidled up alongside the truck and dragged Abi over the side. Lukas had watched her go over, and now he watched as they tore at her, tearing chunks of flesh from her throat and chest.
'ABI!' he yelled. He turned to Shane. 'Shoot the fuckers!'
Shane glanced across to where the girl was being devoured alive. Her eyes suggested no pain, not anymore. She was already slipping away.
One of the creatures bit down hard on her scalp, pulled it back as if it was peeling a satsuma. With a mouthful of hair, it chewed frantically at the flapping scalp.
'Everyone up on the train!' Shane said, slowly stepping away from the grotesque onslaught. More lurkers came staggering around the truck; some dropped to their knees to join in with the feast, but a dozen continued, shambling forward towards the others.
'GO!' Shane bellowed.
Marla lunged to her feet. 'River, grab Saul.'
The girl did, though she practically had to drag the boy, who was paralysed with fear.
Shane quickly sidestepped to where Terry was slumped. His shoulder was spraying blood, pumping it out quicker than anything Shane had ever seen before.
'Come on,' Shane told him. 'It's gonna be okay.'
He lifted Terry from the ground, which was a lot harder than it looked. For an old guy, he was packing some timbre.
'Shane, I'm fucked,' he groaned. His eyes were rolling back in his head, and he seemed to gain even more weight as his body decided to give up the fight.
'No,' Shane said, pulling Terry's recalcitrant body along. 'We're fine, you sonofabitch. Everybody's fine.'
Lukas was standing in exactly the same place he had been tackled in a moment before. He couldn't tear his eyes away from what was happening.
Abi . . .
His girl, though now she resembled something that you might find out on a busy road in the country, unrecognisable.
Behind him, Marla had climbed up onto the second car's roof. Saul was passed up to her first, and then she yanked River up. She surveyed the melee and watched as Shane staggered back towards them with Terry's dead arm draped across his shoulder. On the way past, Shane said something to Lukas, though she couldn't hear due to the noise the lurkers were making as they fed.
Groans, the sickening squelching of Abi's flesh as it was stripped from her bones, Lukas screaming for them to stop – as if they would listen.
'Shane, hurry!' Marla said. Two lurkers had broken away from the horde, and they were moving with intent towards Shane and his cargo. He still had the shotgun, which probably hampered him more than anything. Marla didn't know whether he would have a chance to shoot if the creatures reached them before they got to the carriage, not with Terry the way he was.
Lukas finally realised how much shit he was in, and turned.
What he hadn't noticed, however, was the creatures flanking him. Now there were undead standing between him and the train, as well as behind him. Some of those ones had fed well on his girlfriend, and were rolling off her, sated, lips bloody.
Lukas feigned a sidestep, but the approaching creatures seemed to be wise to his ploy and went the same way. He reacted with shock. 'No. . . You're just fucking dumb!' he spluttered. He stepped back, almost tripped over himself, and then he called across to where the old guy was being lifted onto one of the carriage roofs. 'Hey! Help me! Fucking don't leave me here!'
The lurkers between him and the car paid no heed to what was going on behind them. Their attention was fixated on the prize ahead.
'You cunts!' Lukas screamed, sounding more like Abi, now, than his previously calm self. 'You absolute cunts!'
A lurker – female once, but no longer determinate – shambled towards him. Lukas lifted his arm and swiped the creature across the jaw, knocking her back a few feet. She snarled, a long, black ribbon of drool seeped from her lips, and then she rushed him.
Lukas whimpered and tried to turn, but he bounced off another creature . . .
'You fucks! You dirty fucks!'
The female wrapped her tattered arms around his throat and dragged him to the ground. He struggled, tried to fight, but when the weight of several more creatures arrived it was fruitless.
He saw, through the circle of grotesque faces above him, nothing but clouds, and then a hand obscured his view completely, a hand clenching meat.
A piece of him.
He screamed, gargled blood in his throat, and was gone before they fished out the remaining viscera from his open belly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
'Keep them over there,' Shane instructed Marla. She didn't want the kids to see Terry like this, especially River who had grown quite fond of the old man.
'Is he going to be okay?' Marla asked, staring at the horrible wound forlornly. 'Shane, you need to stem the blood—'
'I know what I need to do,' he said, not meaning to snap. Calmly, he said, 'Just keep them over there, away from the edge. Those fuckers'll try to get at us once they've finished down there.'
The guns. If only they had the guns.
Lukas had tossed the guns into a bag and handed it to Abi. Which meant they were over by the front of the truck, somewhere, useless.
Marla turned and eased herself across the car roof towards the children. Once she was gone, Shane removed his shirt and began to tear at the sleeves with his shaking hands.
It looked a lot easier in the films, and he struggled to pull off a scrap large enough to wrap a fucking finger.
'Don't . . . worry about . . . it.' Terry lowered his hand; the wound looked awful, as if the entire arm had been opened up and riffled through.
'It's gonna be okay,' Shane told him, still working on the shirt.
'Shane . . .' Terry said, gritting his teeth and managing to talk through the pain. 'It's really . . . not . . . I, I know . . . that.' He wiped caked blood away from his lips; Shane wished he had some water to offer, but that was in the packs.
Whiskey would have been much better.
'That stupid FUCK!' Shane yelled, meaning Lukas. Marla, who had been trying to comfort the children, started as Shane punched the roof of the carriage. 'We should have, we should have killed him in the fucking woods!'
Terry shook his head. 'We're . . . not kill . . . not killers, Shane. Not . . . like them.' His face was pallid now, alabaster almost. Through his silvery beard, Shane could see blue lips, which was not a good sign.
Terry was going to die.
'FUCK!' Shane bellowed, his anger attracting the attention of the feeding lurkers, not that it mattered. They were either going to get eaten, scratched and infected, or die of dehydration right there on the carriage r
oof. But not until they watched Terry die slowly in front of them, gradually slipping into the darkness.
'I need to tell you . . . something,' Terry said, beckoning Shane closer with gnarled fingers. 'Come here . . . stupid.'
Shane edged in, his ear cocked to better hear what Terry had to say.
'I had a girl once . . . nice, beautiful, the best . . . the best thing that . . . ever happened to me.'
He took a deep intake of breath before continuing, and Shane realised how difficult it was becoming for him to even speak.
'Liesl,' Terry said. 'Liesl was her name . . . Shane, she was . . . she was a Goddess. I . . . I was not a good guy . . . b-back then. I let . . . my head run away with m-me, and Liesl . . .' he paused, swallowed despite the lack of saliva. 'She went with it . . . I let her go . . . and I regret-regretted it to this . . . day.'
Shane knew what he was being told, what Terry was imparting to him and why.
'Don't let . . . her get away from . . . y-you,' he managed. 'She's a good one.'
A tear rolled down Shane's cheek as he slowly lowered Terry backwards. 'Just relax now,' he said, wiping the blood from Terry's lips. 'We're gonna figure a way off of this thing.'
The rain began once again, a hellish drum-roll on the steel around them.
*
They waited, and watched the lurkers scratch and claw at the side of the carriage upon which they sat. Occasionally, Shane would flick out a leg, his boot meeting fleshy pulp, but they persisted as was their wont.
A matter of time, Shane thought. It's just a matter of fucking time before they reach us.
The shirt he'd torn was wrapped around him once again, clinging to him from the rain.
Watching Lukas devoured had done nothing to ease Shane's anger and hatred toward him. As he'd watched the lurkers pick Lukas's bone, he'd prayed the asshole might wake up to suffer some more.
He'd got off lightly, passing out so fast.
Terry was trembling, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.
The Dead Series (Book 3): Dead Line Page 18